


Little Altars Everywhere

by Jennifer-Oksana (JenniferOksana)



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Cylons, Episode: s02e20 Lay Down Your Burdens (2), F/F, Femslash, Food, Love, New Caprica, Older Woman/Younger Woman, Prayer, Resistance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-05-26 04:12:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6223408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenniferOksana/pseuds/Jennifer-Oksana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"If Laura spoke to the gods, both she and they were silent and stealthy about it."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Altars Everywhere

The first set of off-the-record gifts were waiting in the school tent the morning after Baltar's surrender to the Cylons. Laura and Maya, who were both in understandably bleak moods, had walked in and looked at the little packages sitting on the table with intense surprise.

"Gods, what is this?" Laura asked, delicately opening a twine-tied brown paper package and then taking a step back. "Oh dear. Maya, sweetheart?"

"Yes?" Maya asked, setting Isis in her crib. She was so close to walking -- if they didn't have to keep her cooped up, Maya suspected she'd already be doing it.

"I think we're going to have to borrow a sack to take all of our gifts home," Laura said, gesturing as she sat down.

Maya began looking, and gaping. There were little packets of salt and herbs, candles, a half-bottle of wine, fresh vegetables that had clearly been stacked next to each other, a small knitted scarf that would fit Isis...

"Why now?" Maya asked, as Laura gazed at four potatoes with undisguised lust.

"People are afraid," Laura said, her voice distant and sad as she rested her chin on her palm. "They're looking for someone to intercede for them."

A thrill of fear shot up Maya's spine. "They want you to go talk to Baltar? Or the Cylons?" she whispered.

"Perhaps," Laura said, getting up slowly. She lovingly collected the potatoes, a few carrots, and even two leeks, and cast about for a good resting place. "I can borrow a pot from one of the neighbors. I'll make us soup."

Maya didn't like that answer. "Do they expect you to talk to the gods or something?" she asked. "That's crazy."

"Or something," Laura agreed, taking one of the sacks they usually used for paper trash -- it burned well -- and setting their gifts in it.

Maya shivered. Laura was incredibly resolute and quiet all of a sudden, as though she'd agreed to something. Which was absurd -- how could the people think that Laura could do anything? She taught their children, she didn't cause trouble, and they had laughed at her plan of Earth for this mudball.

Now there was trouble, and everyone was looking to their beacon of hope. Maya didn't like it, not even a little bit.

But there was work to do, and if Laura spent the day slightly distracted, Maya spent the day worrying about what the Cylons were planning, what the parents wanted, and what Laura would do.

"You're quiet," Laura said companionably as they trudged toward home. Maya was carrying their new gifts, and Isis was reaching over to grab at Laura's glasses again. It seemed to be a game between the two -- if Isis could grab them, she won. They both laughed a lot about it.

"I'm worried," Maya said. "I don't like what people want you to do."

"You don't know what they want me to do," Laura said as Isis succeeded in getting Laura's glasses half off. "Hey! Watch the eye, kid."

Isis grinned and poked Laura in the mouth. "Dat," she said.

"Is a mouth," Laura answered, snapping at Isis's finger. "And teeth."

"Dat," Isis agreed, putting her face against Laura's shoulder. "Dat ma."

"No, that's mama," Laura said, pointing to Maya.

Isis giggled, and Maya felt a little more calm. After all, this was their life. Their family was their life. Isis mattered to Laura -- she'd gone to all the trouble to keep an eye on the baby even without the presidency.

Besides, the dreamy look on Laura's face when they got into the communal kitchen, complete with the borrowed pot? Was practically love.

"I love cooking," Laura said. "I love making soup. I wish we had a little cream, and I will die happy when the herbs come into season, but oh, gods, this may be a perfect potato-leek soup."

She hadn't let Maya do a bit of prep work, either, though Maya had checked over some of the homework and kept Isis from yowling too loudly. Instead, Laura scrubbed and chopped and peeled with a smile on her face and soon enough, the air had started to smell good.

"Wine?" Laura asked, turning around with a potato peel on her forehead and a glint in her eye.

"Of course," Maya replied, standing up and brushing off the potato peel. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Laura said.

Maya kissed Laura on the cheek and took the little cup. Laura turned back to her soup, stirring the liquid slightly.

Feeling a bit naughty, Maya sipped at the wine. "It's not bad," she said. It was in fact very good, colder and less sharp than it should have been, given the circumstances.

"No, it's not," Laura agreed. "I would give anything to have bread right now. Fresh bread, the kind of crusty sourdough loaf that I always liked to eat with really good butter or maybe herbed cheese I got at the farmer's market at the Riverwalk."

"Oh, I like butter better," Maya said, practically drooling at the thought of fresh hot bread. "But I like yeasty bread. My mother made good bread and she'd put butter and blackberry preserves on it for us after school."

Laura laughed. "Did we ever decide if your mother was older or younger than me?" she asked, turning her head slightly.

"We did not," Maya said. "And you're only as old as you feel."

"Gods, I hope not," Laura said fervently, leaning over to smell the bubbling concoction in the pot. "Oh, if only I had cream."

They both smiled at the plaintive tone in Laura's voice, and Maya felt relaxed, the warm weight of Isis in her arms and the way Laura seemed absolutely at ease as she waited for the soup to finish cooking down.

"One day, we'll build ourselves a big house," Maya said. "With a kitchen the size of the schoolhouse. It'll be warm there all the time, and Isis can run around there. And there will be flowers. Big red roses."

"There aren't roses here," Laura said gently.

"There's nowhere warm here, either," Maya replied. "But our big house will be warm. It will smell good, like fresh-baked bread, and and...spices. And we'll have a big table for guests and there will be roses. I'll get them for you."

"How? With a hope and a prayer?" Laura asked, and when Maya looked up, she looked ready to cry. Her arms had circled around herself, and she was shivering.

"With faith and love and persistence," Maya said, wanting to stand up but having nowhere to put Isis. "There won't be a future, Laura, if we don't stand with you. No matter how hard you pray or what you sacrifice."

Laura looked away quickly, and Maya pretended not to notice Laura wiping her eyes. They didn't talk about certain things, and Maya knew that Laura hated showing weakness, even to her.

"The soup is ready," Laura said, her hands resting on the small prep area.

"It smells wonderful," Maya replied.

And it was amazingly good; despite a lack of cream, despite the stock coming from bouillon cubes of uncertain pedigree, despite the leeks being a little sharpish and green. Both of them slurped at their supper without any regard for manners. Laura licked her bowl clean and then ladled herself another serving, and Maya just snickered.

"I'm hungry. The food on this planet's lousy," Laura said primly, sitting down and bumping her knee against Maya.

"If the kids could see you," Maya teased, feeding Isis a little more of it.

Laura considered this, and then promptly stuck her tongue out. Isis squealed and followed suit, dribbling soup down her sweater.

"Oh, frak," Maya said.

"Oh, gods, sorry," Laura replied, licking her thumb and cleaning Isis's face while Maya fussed with the sweater. "I didn't think, but she **is** at the imitating little monkey stage."

Maya nodded, smiled slyly, and then kissed Laura. "You'll be careful, won't you?" she asked.

"Careful?" Laura asked.

"Whatever you're going to do," Maya said. "Be careful."

"I will be," Laura said, putting her hand on Maya's face. It was a little bit cold, but Maya sank into it anyway.

The next morning, there were more offerings. Notes written on tiny pieces of paper. Trinkets. Some got sent home with the children; others found their way onto the three of them, their little family. Maya saw the signs and shivered again.

But Laura didn't seem to do anything. She took any food and made it into supper for their family, luxuriating in her ability to make even simple recipes. She never raised her voice or attended secret meetings. She and Maya made love as often as they ever had, stealing their time jealously.

If Laura spoke to the gods, both she and they were silent and stealthy about it.

And yet the dread filled Maya's stomach, fear creeping through her blood like poison. Laura had never really belonged to Maya, but Maya thought that of all of them, she was the only one who wanted Laura, and not just what she could bring them.

"I love you, I love you, I love you," Maya would gasp, warm and naked and slick under Laura's hands. "Don't leave me."

And Laura's kiss was almost a promise, was a promise, trembling and hot on Maya's shoulder.

"For as long as I can stay," Laura said.

The next day, there was chocolate in the pile of gifts. Laura looked at the tiny hoard, and beckoned Maya over with a finger.

"Close your eyes and open your mouth," Laura said with a smile. "Will you?"

Maya nodded, not trusting herself to speak. And the chocolate was surprisingly bittersweet against her tongue, so much so that Maya's eyes opened and she bit off half the offered treat.

"Good girl," Laura said, eating the rest herself, watching Maya watch her calmly.

Hope was in the air, and resistance.

Then again, so was trouble. Maya let the chocolate melt on her tongue while she watched Laura, and started to wonder what forces her lover was bringing to bear with nothing more than patience and the love and trust of her people.

The storm was most definitely coming. Maya could taste it.


End file.
